


With Envy

by LegoTea



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Commitment, F/M, Jealousy, Pre-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:45:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegoTea/pseuds/LegoTea
Summary: It’s only been a week after defeating Ronan, when Gamora sees Peter with other women. And she is not at all jealous. Not one bit.





	With Envy

Gamora wakes in the morning to check on Groot in his pot.

But she hears someone unfamiliar talking as they approach her, and she immediately pulls out Godslayer.

She points it right in front of her and comes face-to-face with a half-naked pink woman, who screams.

“Oh.” Gamora sheaths her sword, but the woman keeps screaming.

“You can stop that now,” Gamora says in a flat voice, but it only causes the woman to burst into tears.

On the far side of the ship, Quill rolls over in his bunk, moaning, “’s going on?”

Gamora rolls her eyes and leaves the sobbing woman, who just sinks onto the floor, curling into a ball.

 

\---

 

“Well, this shouldn’t be too tough, ‘specially after Ronan,” Quill says, activating his mask and turning to look at Gamora. “Right?”

She stares straight ahead as the ship descends.

“Gamora?” He pauses, then says, “Hello?”

She keeps staring straight ahead, until she jumps into battle.

She doesn’t talk to him at all. Instead, she focuses on retrieving the sacred object they’d been tasked to return to its rightful owners, dodge Rocket’s bombs, slash all the enemies who dare step in her way, and make sure Drax stays alive.

When she gets back on the ship, she sits down next to Groot’s pot as she cleans Godslayer, then polishes it with oil she had purchased with her last share of units. Groot wiggles happily and she smiles at him, then pours him a bit of water.

“I am Groot!” he squeaks, grinning up at her.  She doesn’t understand what he’s saying, but she can tell he’s grateful for her care and presence.

“Hey great work out there,” Quill says, entering the room as he turns off his mask. “Think you must’ve knocked off about fifty of those assholes.”

Her count is actually sixty-two – she remembers each of her kills – but Gamora doesn’t bother correcting him. She starts helping Groot weave some of the twigs he’d shed earlier. She’s not exactly sure what he wants to make, but she gets the feeling that it’s something for Rocket .

Quill joins her and Groot at the large table, and she sighs.

“Gamora.” He waves his hand in front of her face to get her attention, and she briefly considers sticking Godslayer right through it. “What’s up, did I die back there? ‘Cause if I did, this isn’t exactly how I pictured -”

“- You’re not dead,” she snaps, getting up out of the chair. _Though I wish you would be_.

“Okay,” he says, drawing out the word so that it takes a nanosecond longer for her translator to decipher it. “What’s with the silent treatment?”

“There _is_ no silent -” Gamora starts to shout; then, out of the corner of her eye, she notices Groot staring up at her with a worried expression.

She draws in a deep breath, and lowers her tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He snorts. “Oh, c’mon. You haven’t even _looked_ at me since this morning. Wait. This morning.” Quill runs a hand through his hair. “Is this because of....” His annoyed expression slowly turns into a small smile. “Are you _jealous_?”

“What?” she says, walking away from him. Then she pauses, calling over her shoulder, “Sorry, Groot, I’ll be back to help you later.”

“I am Groot,” he squeaks, and through her peripheral vision, she sees him waving at her.

“Oh, you _are_ , aren’t you?” Peter says, and she quickly turns her back on him. “Of seeing.... Uh.... Damn. What’s her name, earlier.”

Gamora huffs out an irritated breath, tossing her hair as she starts walking away from him.

“Okay look, maybe I should’ve told you guys that I get some… _company_ on the ship sometimes. I’ll own up to that. But maybe _you_ shouldn’t be pulling your sword here, on anyone who gets within five feet of you.”

Her lips twist in disgust.

She hears the sound of a chair behind dragged away from the table, then a creaking noise as Quill settles on it. She doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s lifting his legs and resting them on the table.

Groot lets out a scandalized squeak.

“Okay, buddy, I’ll clean ’em later. So,” he says, his tone changing when he directs it back to Gamora, “still not gonna talk to me, huh?”

She draws to a halt.

“Look,” Quill calls over to her, “you said it yourself, you know who I am. ‘Pelvic sorcery,’ right? I thought you wouldn’t be surprised, is all. And if you’re so pissed about this, then why didn’t you just tell me -”

“I’m _not_ angry. You can do whatever you want,” she said, then slammed the door behind her.

With her enhanced hearing, she hears him mutter, “Yeah. I _can_.”

 

\---

 

Four days later, while celebrating another successful mission, Gamora catches Quill leaving with a short, yellow-skinned woman who looks at him as if he created the stars himself.

He pauses for a moment before they slink out of view, and Gamora turns to stare at her drink when she thinks he’s looking at her.

Then, not even three days later, after they land the ship on Xandar for repairs, he peels off from the group again, calling up one of his former trysts and speaking very loudly to her as he watches Gamora.

She ignores him, appearing as cool as a Karidian _clugl_. She keeps her face averted from his while she and Rocket attempt to wheedle out a lower invoice from the mechanic.

After managing to save about ten thousand units, she and the others head to the Nova Corps for a debriefing.  She’d hoped to save even _more_ units for the Guardians, but she had, at least, prevented Rocket from blowing holes all over the mechanic’s shop.

Still, she’s tenser – all right, more than usual – during her meeting with Nova Prime. She must be visibly upset, because she and the others are offered finer guest suites than they’re usually provided, completely free of charge.

“But where is Mr. Quill?” Nova finally asks as the Guardians turn to leave. “Is he all right?”

“Oh, he’s _more_ than all right,” Rocket says, holding Groot’s pot and winking at her in an overly exaggerated way, a tic he’s recently picked up. “D’ast humie’s prob’ly the happiest man on Xandar, right about -”

Drax snatches Rocket up by the back of his collar without agitating Groot, and quickly carries him out the door, ignoring Rocket’s indignant swears.

“Our apologies, Nova Prime,” Gamora says with a slight bow.

“Not to worry,” the regal woman says, flashing a brief, knowing smile. “I’m sure he will find his way back to you, soon enough.”

Stunned, Gamora is at a loss for words. Nova Prime pats her on the arm, gently, then head back to her control room.

 

\---

 

In Gamora’s private quarters that night, she tosses and turns in bed. She groans in frustration, sitting up and then deciding to get a glass of water, needing something to do.

She drinks it, and enjoys the cool, crisp Xandarian refreshment, tinged with a curious taste of something Quill had declared was ‘minty.’

The mere memory of him is enough to make her slam the glass on the counter. At least it doesn’t shatter.

It’s not that she’s angry that he’s with other women. Of course it isn’t. No, it’s because Peter Quill doesn’t give a damn about any of these women. Gamora used to write them all off as mind-numbed waifs, but now, in actuality, she assesses them as regular, well-meaning people, just looking to have a good time with an attractive man.

The _real_ issue, she thinks as she pushes away from the counter and heads back to her bed, is why they would want to be with him, of all the people in the universe. He’s loud and arrogant, he talks too much, and he doesn’t maintain his ship properly. She sniffs with disapproval as she adjusts her crumpled sheets and blanket, laying them out flat and neat again before crawling under them.

And he takes too much time in the shower, she remembers as she settles into her overly large bed, and feels a bit more relaxed already. It’s good for her to think about his flaws.

Better to be angry with him, than imagine what he might be doing right now, with another woman.

Right. Gamora quickly tries thinking of other things he does that annoy her.

That’s easy enough. He leaves his wet towel wherever he drops it. He walks around half-naked too much, as if he’s waiting for her to notice. In his dreams! He’s also dangerously reckless, and overly earnest.

Lastly, he has a pesky habit of looking at her with unabashed sincerity after he’s had one too many drinks and divulged his childhood secrets.

Well, Gamora has secrets of her own, too. And she isn’t fool enough to tell him, because she’s had.... dreams....  _thoughts_ when she’s waking, or about to fall asleep – which make her even more frustrated, because that means they’re completely conscientious –  that _she_ were the one in Peter’s bed. With him. Feeling his exposed skin against hers, touching him, moaning as his tongue glides across her lips, sensing his muscles tense underneath her. And then, in her traitorous thoughts, she’s waking up with him, catching him easily before he rolls out of his bunk onto the floor. Then she thinks about pulling him back up onto his bunk as she moves on top of him, telling him she’s holding him in place underneath her, just to be safe.

She thinks about resting her head on his bare chest, hearing his heartbeat, smiling as he starts to play with her hair….

She jumps out of bed again, so quickly she almost trips on her sheets, and races to take a shower.

She will certainly never tell him about what she also did in there.

 

\---

 

One week later, she sees him flirting, once again, with another woman on the opposite side of the crowded Darbian tavern.

Gamora stands next to the bar, quietly by herself, drinking and taking in the sights. She’s been to more bars in the past three weeks than she had in her entire life, since joining the Guardians. Still, it’s hard to shrug off old habits, like watching her mark.... which is most certainly _not_ Quill.

She can handle this, seeing him charm yet another woman.  It’s been half a month since Gamora met him, and he had been right to assume that Gamora would not be surprised at his antics.

She puts down her empty glass and, after taking a moment to consider leaving, she orders another drink.  Due to her body modifications, she’s physically unable to experience inebriation. But she figures that, if she’s going to stay here, she should at least be doing something other than simply staring at Quill.

“Put it on my tab,” she hears to her right, and he’s suddenly there, at her side, nodding at the bartender.

“No, keep it on mine,” she insists, considering moving away from Quill, but ends up staying put.

“I’m getting it,” he says, tapping the bar more purposefully. “And bring me a Talashuk ale, hold the cartilage.”

“What are you doing over here?” she says, sighing as the bartender busies himself making the drinks.

“Wanted to check up on my teammate.” She refuses to look at him because she doesn’t want to be distracted by the sight of the bar lights dancing on his curls, or at the way the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. “Didn’t see you here earlier. What made you decide to come out for the night?”

“Rocket decided to stay in and watch Groot this time. Drax went looking for information on Thanos’s whereabouts, and he told me to make sure you don’t get in another bar fight -”

“- Ugh, I told you, _he_ started it!”

“- And I’m thirsty.” Gamora raises her drink to her lips. “Oh, before I forget, we need to restock our supplies on the ship tomorrow. I was also thinking we should -”

“- Woah, hey, do you ever let yourself relax for two minutes? C’mon, let’s dance,” he says, reaching for her arm.

In an instant, Gamora whips out her free hand as she takes her drink from the bartender with her other hand, batting away his. Her instinct is to grab hold and bend his forearm backwards until she can hear the bones snap, but she reconfigures the automatic intent at the last second. If it hurt or surprised him, he doesn’t let it show.

The booming bass of the audio reverberates around them as she shakes her head, and lowers her free hand. “I don’t want to dance,” she mutters.

“Okay, understood.” Peter says, lowering his rejected hand. “Maybe another time, then?”

In front of them, the bartender unleashes a blue flame from one of his heads over a mug of ale, then slams it on the bar in front of Peter.

“Maybe,” Gamora says, very quietly, drawing a circle over the rim of her glass as Peter reaches out to take his mug.

He nods, but in true Peter fashion, remains by her side, leaning over the bar.

They stand in silence for a few moments as they tend to their drinks. Then, Peter begins fiddling with his music player, something Gamora notices he does without actively thinking. She realizes that she’s never considered putting that in her ‘Irritating Quill things’ list. She doesn’t think she would ever put it on there.

“So,” he says, his voice low, “when are you gonna ask me to stop seeing other girls?”

He’s timed the question just as she’s taking a sip of her drink, she _knows_ he has, because she sputters as a bit of liquid shoots up her nose. “ _What_?”

He shakes his head, and sighs as he crosses his arms and rests them as he leans onto the bar. “Not like you’d have to ask me, anyway. Lost my mojo after the time you caught me on the ship with.... Uh....” He screws up his face in concentration, searching for a name she knows he will never find.

“What in the world are you talking about?” she asks, staring at him. Her translator is unable to decipher ‘mojo,’ but she’s pretty sure she knows what it means.

“Okay, look, I’ll be honest,” Peter says, staring down at the various scratch marks and crude drawings etched into the bar counter. “I’ve been trying to.... Y’know.... Move on after Xandar. The first trip. You didn’t seem interested, So I thought, hey, she won’t give an orloni’s ass if I hook up with someone else. And I thought you _didn’t_ , after you nearly made her run screaming off the ship.”

“Oh.” Gamora shifts a bit, feeling a little guilty now that she realizes what the sight of her and Godslayer must have done to the poor woman.

Peter lifts his and waves it a bit. “She’s fine. I dropped her off and must’ve apologized, like, a hundred times before getting her some of that overly priced _abbagha_ for breakfast. She loved it.

“But then you were pissed for days, and I had a feeling why.”

“It’s _not_ because I’m....” Gamora says, starting in a rush, then trailing off when Peter looks up at her, a knowing gleam in his eye.

“I could’ve handled it better. I didn’t. And I guess it backfired on me, pretty badly. And not for lack of tryin’! Must’ve been about five, six women counting that last one you saw.” Peter shrugs, taking a sip of his ale. He set it back down, and Gamora fights the urge to wipe the foam away from his upper lip. “Haven’t been able to.... Y’know.... Since that time on the ship.”

Gamora blinks at him. “You’re lying.”

He shakes his head. “Why would I be? I’m freakin’ _embarrassed_ , all right? I couldn’t....” he shifts his weight onto one foot, then back onto the other as he averts his eyes. “Couldn’t get _excited_ around any of them.”

“But I saw you with at least one,” Gamora points out. “You seemed excited.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I wanted you to admit you’re jealous!”

“I am not!”

He heaves out a long sigh. “Anyway, yeah, there might’ve been some kissing. I’ll own up to that. But I _swear_ nothing beyond that happened.”

Gamora rolls her eyes and looked away.

“Okay, fine, don’t believe me. But my point is, I used to be _on point_ , every time. But not now. Not when I think you might be feelin’ the same way.”

Gamora pauses, her drink halfway up to her mouth.

“Wha - that’s not… I wasn’t going to…” she says, and when she glances at Peter again, despite her every resolve not to, he’s _grinning_.

“Called it. You _don’t_ want to see me with anyone else.”

Gamora almost wishes they were on another mission. Slaying enemies would be so much easier to deal with than this.

 _Feelings_.

“So,” Peter says slowly, “if you want, I’ll stop hooking up with other women.”

Her face hot, and not because of the alcohol, Gamora diverts her attention back down to her cup. She doesn’t know _what_ she wants. She wants to _not_ run into strangers on Peter’s ship, yes, but she’s also not quite ready to.... _become_ one of those eventual strangers.

“Let me ask you something, then,” he says. “If Drax was having one-night stands, would that get on your nerves too?”

Gamora finds that question much easier to answer. “We are a team now, and due to our pasts, we must act with discretion and privacy. If he brought a woman on board, I would be just as suspicious that she could be a spy for Ronan’s followers – or she could become a liability to the rest of us.”

“Good point. But would it make you _mad_ if you saw Drax with a woman?”

“Why would I? He has lost his wife, if he found another he were happy with, then I -”

She looks at Peter again, and he’s smiling so hard he practically radiates with some kind of inner light that brightens the entire bar.

Gamora turns away, unable to face the full force of his smile. She quickly drains the rest of her drink, and almost gasps when Peter leans in close to her. Not touching her, but close enough so she can hear his voice, low and intimate.

“I’ll stop. I know you don’t wanna ask me, and I know you’ll never admit _why_ you don’t want to, but if it bothers you that much, I’ll stop.”

Gamora takes in a deep breath. When she sets her drink down, her hand trembles.

“Thank you. Peter, I....” she says, turning to face him.

He’s gone.

Gamora looks around the bar, but can’t find him.

“Insufferable,” she mutters.

But she is smiling.


End file.
